Chapter 174: Apostle Lucian

Lucian stood by the arched window of the harbor master’s tower. He watched the Vanguard forces claim the eastern docks. Giant Troglodytes effortlessly tossed ruined galley hulls into the ocean to clear space for their ironclads. Cassian stood a few paces behind the armored Apostle.

“You invited feral beasts into our home,” Lucian stated coldly. “They show absolute disregard for our authority. They view us as entirely beneath them.”

“We ran out of viable options,” Cassian replied, rubbing his tired eyes. “Admiral Vaelor would have starved us by winter. The Iron Arbiter granted me the authority to seek an alliance, and the Vanguard possessed the exact martial strength we desperately needed.”

Lucian turned away from the window to glare at the Envoy. “They act exactly like conquerors masquerading as mercenaries. Once they finish slaughtering the Fourth Continent’s army, they will simply turn those cannons on us.”

Down in the shipyards, Iron-Scale and Syra wasted absolutely no time. They commandeered the largest warehouse on the docks to establish their primary command center. Vanguard soldiers quickly cleared away the rotting wooden crates and erected a massive stone table right in the center of the room.

Syra unrolled a large parchment map across the table, placing small markers over the coastal choke points.

“The Second Continent possesses the primary ports and shipyards,” Syra explained to the gathered squad leaders. She traced dark lines across the map given to them by the Envoy. “Global goods, weapons, and vital resources must route their ships through these specific waters. The Third and Fourth Continents share direct borders with this land, providing the Fourth Continent an obvious motive. They are trying to conquer this territory to secure an absolute upper hand in the upcoming global wars.”

A human Vanguard commander leaned forward and pointed a gauntleted finger at the far edges of the parchment. “But there are four more continents connected to this landmass. The Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth. There are active ports on the Seventh and Eighth Continents. Even if we secure this harbor, the Fourth Continent can import from there as well.”

“They will need to waste a massive amount of logistical resources to transport goods across those distances,” Iron-Scale responded. He leaned over the table, his slitted eyes locked on the western valleys. “They absolutely cannot afford that financial drain during an active military campaign. Severing this port cripples their immediate momentum.”

The warehouse doors abruptly swung open. Cassian marched into the command center with a small escort of Second Continent guards. He looked at the map and the newly placed markers.

“You are finalizing battle plans without us,” Cassian noted. His voice carried a mix of frustration and forced diplomatic calm. “You must consult our military council before finalizing any troop movements. This is our territory, and this is our war. The Vanguard is here to assist us.”

Iron-Scale stood up perfectly straight. He looked down at the human envoy with absolute disdain.

“We take orders exclusively from the Spiral,” Iron-Scale declared. “We absolutely will not accept tactical advice from a military force that allowed their own land to be stolen by a foreign army. You lost this war months ago, Envoy.”

Cassian stiffened, his face flushing with obvious anger. “We signed a mutual alliance treaty. We are equals in this endeavor.”

“You secured our violence,” Syra added seamlessly. She completely ignored the envoy and kept her focus entirely on the map. “Leave this warehouse and let us do the job you were too weak to finish.”

Cassian opened his mouth to argue further, but the lethal glint in the Kobold’s eyes forced the words right back down his throat. The Envoy turned on his heel to leave.

Before he could exit, a towering figure clad in deep-earth steel plate stepped through the warehouse doors. Apostle Lucian blocked the entryway and placed a gauntleted hand on Cassian’s shoulder.

“You will not dismiss us so easily, Commander,” Lucian stated. His magically amplified voice echoed off the stone walls and demanded the room’s attention. “The Vanguard possesses immense martial strength, but you are entirely blind to the realities of this continent.”

Iron-Scale narrowed his slitted eyes. He recognized the divine aura radiating from the armored man and knew instantly this was a true Apostle rather than another mortal diplomat.

Lucian walked confidently toward the stone table and looked down at the parchment map. “You are formulating a war strategy based on obsolete ink. That map was drawn fifty years ago. Mountain passes collapse, rivers change their course, and our enemies dig new trenches every single month. We know the secret routes and the hidden shortcuts. Relying purely on old paper will march your troops into a geographical trap.”

Syra tilted her head slightly. ’A completely valid logistical point,’ she calculated silently. ’Acting on outdated geographical data drastically increases our casualty rate.’

“We secured an alliance to fight together,” Lucian continued, meeting the Kobold’s aggressive stare without backing down. “That means we plan together. Any mission executed on our soil requires equal participation and an equal vote on the military council. We will decide the optimal path for this campaign as a unified force.”

Iron-Scale let out a metallic hiss and gripped the edge of the stone table. “I do not share command of my troops with outsiders.”

“Then I will contact my god,” Lucian countered instantly. “I will ask the Iron Arbiter to commune directly with your Sovereign. I will inform them both that our alliance is failing because the Vanguard commanders refuse to cooperate.”

The threat instantly shifted the dynamic in the room.

Lucian leaned closer to the table and lowered his voice. “Neither of us wants to disturb the gods. Summoning divine intervention over a border dispute only proves to our masters that we are completely incapable of managing this war. It shows them that their followers lack the competence to handle basic diplomacy without constant supervision. Do you really want your god to know you failed to organize a simple war council?”

Syra exchanged a very brief, meaningful glance with Iron-Scale. They both remembered the terrifying, crushing gravity of Red’s wrath back in the capital courtyard. The Sovereign had just publicly humiliated and grounded Warlord Gorak for letting his ego disrupt the expedition.

If Red received a divine message from a rival god complaining about his remaining commanders acting like stubborn children, his punishment would be absolute.

’We absolutely cannot risk another display of the Sovereign’s anger,’ Syra decided quickly.

She tapped her star-iron staff against the floorboards and offered a respectful nod to the armored man. “Your logic is sound, Apostle Lucian. Accurate intelligence is a vital component of our victory. We will integrate your officers into our planning sessions and share the voting rights.”

Iron-Scale ground his sharp teeth together. He deeply hated the compromise, but he feared Red’s disappointment far more than he cared about his own pride.

“We will first start by updating the maps. Bring everyone who possesses knowledge.” the supreme commander agreed begrudgingly. “We finalize the strategy tonight, and we march on the western valleys by dawn.”

“My forces are injured and tired. And I am sure your force is tired after the battle too.” He glanced around, but realized not even one of them was injured. “Well, you travelled the sea for weeks, so rest for the night. I know the ports and shipyards are big enough to house your army, but if you need any assistance or resources, you can always inform us. You are the guests here, and it’s our duty to serve you at our best.”

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